Compromises
by insertcleverandwittytitlehere
Summary: Lucius and Arthur. Draco and Ron. Scorpius and Hugo. The Malfoy and the Weasley men have always had a complicated relationship. Maybe time has finally started to heal old rivalries... or maybe some people were never meant to be friends.


**A/N:** This is Beater 2 of the Chudley Cannons checking in for Season 5 Round 12.

 **BEATER 2:** You'll be writing about two characters in an enemies relationship.

 **Characters:** Draco Malfoy and Ronald Weasley

 **Additional Prompts:** 2\. (scenario) a quidditch accident and 14. (word) fix

 **Word count before A/N:** 1,132 words

 **I'm not JK. This is her world.**

* * *

 _Who was this man?_

Hugo watched as his father's normally pale and freckly face turned from pink to red to an alarming purple color. He'd never seen his dad so angry before, never at him or Rose, certainly not at his mum.

"You can't possibly think this was _my_ son's fault!" his dad yelled, brandishing Hugo's broken broom like a Beater's bat in front of Mr. Malfoy's sallow face.

Unlike Hugo's dad, Mr. Malfoy remained a sickly white color, but his eyes grew darker and darker, like storm clouds gathering together right before the deafening crash of thunder.

"My son," Mr. Malfoy hissed through clenched teeth, "is skilled and talented. He has trained with the best since he was a child. He would never have been in such an accident if not for _your_ boy's lack of talent. A trait, no doubt, inherited from his oaf of a father."

"Need I remind you, _Malfoy,_ that this so-called oaf saved your miserable excuse of a life on more than one occasion!"

"Oh, here we go. _Savior_ Weasley with his holier-than-thou speech!"

Ron Weasley threw down the remaining splinters that used to be Hugo's broom. Hugo placed a hand on his forehead, which was still pounding, as his dad exploded in a slew of profanities at Mr. Malfoy.

Hugo looked over at Scorpius standing behind his own father, equally embarrassed.

The boys had been playing as Chasers for their respective teams-Hugo on Gryffindor, Scorp on Slytherin. Hugo had been watching Annie Bulstrode-Nott as she dove for the Snitch, completely missing his own teammate throwing him the Quaffle.

Scorp, on the other hand, had been watching the Quaffle flying through the air. He had no idea Hugo was floating in the middle, unaware of his surroundings. Needless to say, it ended rather painfully.

"Your son needs glasses!"

"And your son needs to pull his head from his-"

"Choose your next words wisely, Malfoy!"

Scorp slipped away from behind his dad and joined Hugo on the sidelines of the pitch.

"What? The truth's too painful to listen to, Weasel? You've raised the spitting image of yourself?" Mr. Malfoy shouted, poking his finger into Hugo's dad's chest.

"I should turn you into a bouncing ferret, shouldn't I?"

"Good thing McGonagall confiscates all outsiders' wands," Scorp said to Hugo. His voice remained casual, but Hugo could sense the familiar shyness. He wasn't one for talking much.

"How's your nose?" Hugo asked. After they smashed together, Hugo saw blood gushing everywhere. Now he could tell that Scorpius's nose had definitely been broken.

"I keep hearing a wheezing sound when I breathe," Scorp said. "How's your head?"

"Could be better," Hugo said, every word making his jaw clench and his temples burst.

In front of them, Ron Weasley was attempting to put Draco Malfoy in a headlock. Malfoy, for his part, kept slipping away and yelling worse profanities than before.

"Slippery little ferret, aren't you?" Hugo's dad yelled back.

"I don't suppose that's a relationship that'll ever be fixed," Hugo said.

"Fixed? That would imply there was a healthy and established relationship to begin with," Scorp laughed.

"Fair point."

"Get your ruddy arse back over here and fight like a man!"

"Real men don't fight," Mr. Malfoy ducked from a punch aimed his way. Hugo's dad ran after Mr. Malfoy just in time to have Mr. Malfoy stick out his foot and trip him.

From the ground, Hugo's dad growled, "Oh sure, _real_ men don't fight. They just trip people and sneer like they've smelled something awful."

"No, real men sit and talk about their differences, but I'm afraid my vocabulary is too voracious for a simpleton like yourself."

"You know," Scorp said, drowning out the tirade of insults, "I almost regret telling my mum to stay home today. She's not a fan of Quidditch, but she'd be able to stop… whatever this is."

"Get your grubby hands off my robes!"

"Grubby! GRUBBY!"

"This is the finest silk in all of Britain, you heathen, and I will not have you contaminating it with your oily skin." Mr. Malfoy ripped the black fabric from Hugo's dad's hands. "Do you even know how many harmful oils are in the human skin?"

Hugo looked to Scorp.

"It's more than you'd think, but not nearly as many as Dad wants you to believe," the older boy said.

They watched as the stadium cleared and even the professors gave up trying to stop the verbal onslaught. The sun was starting to set, and Hugo felt lightheaded. He swayed where he stood.

"Whoa, easy there," Scorp placed a hand on Hugo's shoulder. "Come on. You should see Madam Patil; your eyes are starting to glaze over. I bet it's a concussion."

"Is that why I feel like vomiting?"

"Yeah," Scorp smiled. "Afraid so."

Hugo felt Scorp's hand slip into his own. The familiar feel of his long fingers lacing through his own made Hugo smile despite the mounting headache. Scorpius squeezed his hand reassuringly as they walked toward the castle, the sun setting behind them.

Draco crossed his arms over his chest. Ron slipped his hands into his pockets. They stood shoulder to shoulder, staring after their sons.

"You think they'll ever tell us?"

"Maybe when you learn to calm down, Weasel."

"Oi! You're the one who stormed the pitch."

"Obviously, because my son had fallen from nearly 20 meters after getting his head knocked in!"

They paused, again looking at their sons hand in hand. Laughing and smiling. After a while, Ron spoke.

"We get them at Christmas time."

Another long pause, then: "I can concede that as long as we get New Year's. Astoria throws a very high-end party and I'd be an idiot if I didn't demand Scorp's presence."

Ron nodded and stuck out his hand. Tentatively, Draco took it and they shook on it.

"I still hate you."

"That'll never change."

"Good, because I really don't like the idea of pretending to tolerate a Weasley."

"Unfortunately, I agree."

Their sons were nearing the castle doors.

"You know, Hugo _was_ staring off into space," Ron said reluctantly.

Draco nodded. "Scorp could have been more focused as well."

"I mean, he was focused. Just on the Quaffle and not the players."

"And Hugo was very astute, keeping an eye on where the Snitch was. His flying is rather impressive."

"Yeah. Definitely not something he learned from me."

"You weren't _that_ bad, Weasel."

"You were pretty good too, when you weren't showing off."

They stood, still shoulder to shoulder, unable to see the the confused grimace on either man's face.

Hugo and Scorp had long disappeared inside the castle, and the Quidditch pitch was empty.

Draco turned to Ron. "Let's never speak of this again."

"Deal."

And they shook hands once more.


End file.
